Stroll through the park
by Docnerd89
Summary: Obviously he hasn't been paying much attention to where they're headed because suddenly he realizes that they're headed in the direction of her loft. That's okay. There's still some time till they'll get there, and lots of time even after they do. One shot.


**A/N:** For my friend, Castleaddict1. I hope you like it. No spoilers for the next episode.**  
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**Disclaimer: **Castle is property of ABC, and Andrew Marlowe. He does such a good job with it, that I don't want to claim it – too much pressure.

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It's been three days since they've come back to the city. To their home.

It's been two days since they caught a case, thankfully, a simple one.

It's been one second since he last looked at Kate.

They're strolling side-by-side, in the park this evening, because they left the precinct early. Nothing more they could have done. They'd have to wait for some reports to come in. They'd already caught up with paperwork, which Castle helped with on their first day back. He'd helped in the hopes that they'd have more time together. To do things together. Things like strolling in the park.

There are other people there too. Small kids learning how to ride their shiny new bikes. Bigger kids showing of on their worn roller blades. Couples having picnics, nannies next to strollers. His eyes are on her. Kate. His ears are tuned to her, even if she's saying nothing at all. Everything else, everyone else is drowned out.

It's fall, and the leaves decorating the trees in shades of orange, ochre, auburn, even some red – it's all beautiful. Dancing flames on twigs. Suddenly he feels a breeze, and more importantly, he feels her shift just a little closer.

Out in public they're still being careful. Maintaining some semblance of a distance, which they really don't bother with at home. So he likes these moments where she's being open, and free. Unguarded because she's safe with him. Leaning towards him if not on him. That's fine. That's _her_. That's who he's in love with.

She pulls the long sleeves of her green cotton t-shirt a little lower so they cover her hands. He likes this one. It brings out the green in her eyes. Makes her looks young. He takes his chance, because holding hands isn't too much more than walking snuggly in the park. It's not like they're kissing. And he's not shaking her hand – no, he's just holding it. Loosely, it lies in his larger, warmer hand and the warmth reaches all the way to his heart, because she's not even pretending to pull it away. She likes it there. They're palms are kissing with each step, and if that's all they can do right now? That's fine with him. He'll take any and all of her that he's privy to. He's fine with so much, because this is a lot, and he gets a lot more. At the end of the day, he gets it all. He hasn't forgotten how much he wanted it, and for how long. He cherishes each second of it. Every memory he has is proof. He hasn't forgotten it, because he still wants to keep it for as long as he can. He'll guard this precious thing.

As if sensing that he's thinking about her, she gives a secretive smile. It's like she's saying, 'yeah, Castle. I really can tell what you're thinking, and maybe I even like it.' He knows he likes it. He likes it a lot, and so he smiles too. A small one, because that's all his focus, all his energy is directed toward containing his heart in his chest. He squeezes her hand gently and tugs it towards him, so that she stumbles a little. She does; she stumbles into him and huffs as she rights herself again, still holding on to his hand. He grins then, and shrugs because he can see that she's not even peeved. She's just – happy. Happy with him, strolling in the park, holding hands; and so they walk on.

Obviously he hasn't been paying much attention to where they're headed because suddenly he realizes that they're headed in the direction of her loft. That's okay. There's still some time till they'll get there, and lots of time even after they do. Even that realization sends these strange messages down his body. Is he even walking on concrete? Because it feels like he's walking on clouds. Gliding really, next to this angel with a devilish streak, and he hasn't felt luckier in his life.

His mind drifts back to a few days ago. How at peace they were after solving that case. Helping to solve the case? After the case was solved. Over and done with. And before they had to entertain Chief Brady – boy, that was awkward. He's not even that awkward around Gates. And Gates with her weird doll thing hates him. Back to the good memories though. They'd just gotten back to his place, knowing that Chief Brady would catch up with them after completing the formalities of the arrest, getting the guy an ambulance. And he was so caught up in her. Her shadow was dancing across the well trimmed grass of his lawn as she kicked the fallen leaves, and watched them swirl into wind, performing a dance of their own. He was entranced with her – her graceful movements, her teeth baring laugh ringing out into the open air along with the rustling of the leaves and the thrashing waves of the ocean.

He hears the same music now. The notes of her laughter carrying and sticking to every cell in his body as they continue to walk along, almost at her place now. She's just so serene, and it's beautiful. It fills his heart.

She fills his heart and his mind, his everything. He's brimming full of _her_, and it's such a good feeling. He thinks back to how at home she is with him. How she's showing him glimpses of her that she'd been keeping to herself before. Guarding them, like they were something to be treasured. They were. They are. He gets to see her cook her delicious meat sauce, gets to help her with the cooking in his own kitchen. He gets to watch as she pours the drinks for her guests, and toasts to their good health and future. He gets glimpses of their life together. They're not just glimpses anymore. All of this is real. More than any dream he could have dreamt. More than any dream he dared to dream. And he's glad, because it surprises him – how good they are together.

They're at her place and she hasn't even stopped. They haven't said a word since they agreed to walk through the park. He's been too busy thinking about her. Even when he's with her, he can't get enough. It'll never be enough. He'll always want more, and he knows that the same goes for her. Because she's tugging his arm now, pulling him into the building – guiding him really, because he's always going to follow her. She stops and glances back at him, looking questioningly with that cute little furrow in her brow that he loves. As he swipes his thumb across it to smooth it down again, he smiles the same smile he did back at the Hamptons – hoping that it reassures her; moves it so that he's cradling one side of her face and she turns into it, still looking into his eyes. So he kisses her. Once, twice. Slowly because there's no rush. Soundly because he's sure about them. Lovingly, because he loves her. And she's giving back as much. He's a writer. But sometimes, he doesn't need the words.


End file.
